


In Pursuit Of Dreams

by pinkdiamonds



Series: Dreams [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:31:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkdiamonds/pseuds/pinkdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief look at Daniel's life during the year he spent in the alternate timeline during 'Continuum'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Pursuit Of Dreams

They came into his apartment every few weeks. Once, Daniel smelled the lingering scent of an unfamiliar cologne. Twice, small things had been moved. A glass pushed back from the edge a half an inch, another time, the TV remote was moved from couch to coffee table.

In the normal course of things, Daniel might never have noticed these small disruptions to his space, but now, now he had so little, it was impossible not to notice.

They always came when he was gone, as though they did nothing but sit outside waiting for him to leave, so they could come in and have a look around. Daniel had been tempted on more than one occasion to go back to the apartment right after he’d left.

He often imagined inviting his unseen babysitters in for coffee, thinking they’d be more likely to respond with a bullet to his head than with laughter. This government, like the one he’d once known, didn’t have much of a sense of humor.

In the first few months, before he’d succumbed to inertia and despair, Daniel thought he’d try his hand at writing. He bought an old typewriter, feeling it was somehow more authentic than using his brand new laptop. He had written fifteen chapters of a book, detailing the exploits of a man who asked to be stranded on another planet in order to study an ancient culture and marry a daughter of that culture.

Daniel had come home one day to find his neatly stacked book and battered old typewriter gone. In their place was a copy of the non-disclosure statement he’d signed. He ended that night roaring drunk and methodically smashing most of his cheap new dishes and glasses in the sink.

The government gave him this apartment, gave him a new identity, and gave him enough money to live. He could buy food, and clothes, and books. He had enough money so that he could go out to eat once or twice a week, go to an occasional show, go to the movies, do most anything he wanted in this bland city.

There wasn’t enough money to get on a plane and fly off to Egypt, or Paris, or Rome. In any case, he wasn’t allowed a passport. He could have gotten a job, as a schoolteacher perhaps, or doing something in an office. He had been given a list of jobs he would be allowed to take, if he were so inclined, but Daniel still couldn’t make himself believe this life was real.

He forced himself to leave his apartment everyday the weather wasn’t too nasty, forced himself to speak to clerks or the people he met in the park. The conversations were brief and totally meaningless, never imprinting upon his mind or soul.

And there would come a point everyday he went out when he would spy a blonde head, or a confident, loose limbed gait and his heart would lurch until he realized it wasn’t Sam or Mitchell.

Once every four or five weeks, Daniel would go out at night, pick up some guy, or hire a hooker for a blowjob. He tried, really tried not to, but every time he came, his eyes would slide closed, and he would groan out Jack’s name.

He hated that his body still had needs and he felt like he was cheating every time he slid his cock into someone else’s mouth. He couldn’t get rid of the memory of the last time he’d seen his lover, his body lying lifeless; eyes blank and staring.

The Jack of this timeline didn’t know him, didn’t want to know him. This Jack had a wife and had never lost his son. Twice in the first six months, Daniel had called his house in Winter Park just to hear his voice. He didn’t call again because it hurt too goddamned much.

Daniel didn’t mind sleeping; he had his life back when he slept. His life with Jack. The only life that mattered.

And Daniel woke from his dreams, wondering how he could possibly get through another day. Wondering if this life would ever seem real, wondering how he could live out a lifetime here.

~*~

It was impossible to stem the hope he felt when his phone rang in the middle of the night after a year and an eternity of exile.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Run Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/176034) by [Holdt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holdt/pseuds/Holdt)




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